Making Friends
by LittleRedOne
Summary: Ginny doesn't care what House a person belongs to. If she wants to be someone's friend then she'll try to be their friend. Unfortunately, they don't always respond in kind. Blaise/Ginny; it's one of my favorites of my own.


**A/N:** This is an edited version of this document. This is one of my own stories that I've always been particularly fond of and, since my writing has improved, I wanted to improve the quality of it as well. I hope you like it too!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything familiar from the Harry Potter series.

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I never really understood why everyone made such a big deal about Slytherins and Gryffindors being friendly. You're sorted in to a house by your strongest personality traits. How is it a crime to be friends with some one known for being brave and noble? How is it a crime to be friends with some one known for being ambitious and proud? It just didn't make an ounce of sense to me. The color of someone's tie - the animal on someone's patch - meant nothing to me. If I want to talk to you, I'm going to talk to you. Of course, there have been times when I'd talk to certain Slytherins and they were far less than friendly in return, but that was to be expected. I'm a Gryffindor and a Weasley to boot and they won't all be open minded. I don't _like _that those are the reasons they dislike me, but I can't change it. I can simply search out the people who will look past those details and become a friend to me, or an acquaintance at the least. I can only hope that through those friends, or acquaintances, the others will see that I'm not a bad person as well.

It's been a long road and I've proudly made friends with a fair amount of people. However, there is one in particular that I'd love to be able to see me as just a girl - not a Gryffindor or Weasley - one named Blaise Zabini. I was slow to take notice of him really. He's someone that most people would skip over at first glance. He seemed to be the quiet type; doesn't make himself well known. He doesn't mercilessly tease other students often and he doesn't hang out with Malfoy and his crowd. He simply just exists without drawing attention to himself. And that's what drew me to him most.

The first time I saw him, really saw him, was in the library. I had woken up early on a Saturday to be able to get a good spot to study and, to my utter surprise, he was already in the otherwise empty library. He briefly looked up from his parchment, scanned me with his eyes and went straight back to writing. I made my way to a table and studied him for a while. He was certainly what I'd call a good looking bloke. He seemed studious and more so than just wanting to top his classes. It was like he actually wanted to learn the material simply so he'd know it. He was a calm and collected person. I doubted he would be someone you would ever see in a frantic state. His presence seemed to demand respect. He was someone I wanted to get to know.

That day in the library was two months ago. Every day since then I've tried to get him to talk to me. Usually I'd have given up on a person by now, but there's just something about him that I can't quit working for. If I could just accomplish this I know it would be well worth all the effort. At least I had been making some progress so there was hope. When I first approached him he simply got up and left. After the first week he stayed seated, but ignored me. By the end of the first month he'd finally acknowledge me. He'd critically look me over each day then return to his work, but that was better than being ignored. A month after that and I even get a "Weasley" when I sit down or we part ways. Yes, I definitely made progress.

We pretty much had a system down. He would be sitting in the library studying before or after dinner. I'd enter and make a beeline for his table, sitting with a, "Good evening Blaise." He'd look up, nod and say "Weasley", and then return to whatever he was working on. I pulled my work out and we sat silently until it was time either for dinner or to return to our common rooms. That's when we'd silently, and in surprising sync, pack our things in our bags and stand to leave the library. Once outside the doors he'd turn to me, say "Weasley" with another nod and I'd return the gesture with a cheery "Blaise" and my own nod and we'd be on our separate ways.

That was why today I had been awfully surprised not to see him in the library when I entered both before and after dinner. He was _always _there. Why was he breaking our routine? Surely he needed to get his work done too. He was in the same classes as Hermione and she was loaded down with work to do. This was where my few friends and acquaintances in Slytherin house began to pay off. I angrily stomped up to a table of them, my hands on my hips and bag swinging fiercely behind me.

"Have you seen Blaise Zabini?"

"I saw him head outside after classes," Julie, a girl in my year, answered. "Haven't seen him back since - not even at dinner."

"Thank you Julie," I smiled tightly before stalking towards the exit and straight through to the Entrance Hall. Everyone I passed in the corridors gave me weary looks, not wanting to get in my way. When I reached the Entrance Hall I slammed the doors leading to the grounds open, admittedly far more dramatically then was necessary, and scanned the courtyard in search of the boy who's become my silent study partner. I spotted him far off in the distance and headed towards him. He didn't seem to notice my presence when I reached him - or maybe he chose not to. Not in the mood to be annoyed, I threw my bag forcefully to the ground, crossed my arms over my chest and impatiently tapped my foot until he turned to acknowledge me.

"What are you doing out here? You're supposed to be in the library," I hollered angrily at him.

"Weasley," he said with a nod.

"Get over that Blaise!" I snapped. "Why weren't you in the library?"

"I've been right here," he answered after a few moments.

"Well that's a crap answer," I laughed humorlessly. "We had a routine down. Or did you not notice? I find you in the library. We study. We leave. _Why weren't you there?_"

"I've been right here," he said again.

"I get that Blaise," I huffed. "And _why _were you right here?"

"I don't think that's your business Weasley," he replied calmly. "We aren't friends."

"Well why not? I've been trying to be your friend for months."

"That's why I'm out here."

"What?" I asked, my nose wrinkling in confusion. How did that make sense? He was outside because I wanted to be his friend?

"You're trying to be my friend. I'm not supposed to be friends with you. It goes against everything I was ever taught. Gryffindors are the enemy. Weasleys are the enemy."

"I'm not your enemy damn it! I'm trying to be your friend."

"I know Weasley," he said in a voice that was still calm. All this make and forth was driving me insane. I just wanted straight answers.

"Then what's the problem?"

"I can't be your friend Weasley. I'm not supposed to."

"Well don't look at me as a Weasley or a Gryffindor. Look at me as the girl you've been studying with for the past two months."

"Why do you want to be my friend?" he asked suddenly. I didn't have to think of a reason, I already knew, but I paused to think of how to say it before answering.

"You're someone I think I'd get along with. You work hard, you're respected, and you don't run around insulting everyone you can." He thought over my answer for a minute. For the firs time since I joined him I took the time to actually look at him. His tie was loosened and the first few buttons on his shirt undone along with his sleeves being rolled up. The cloak he usually wore over his uniform was balled up next to him on the ground beside his bag. I furrowed my brows in confusion. He was always so well put together. Not once in the last two months have I seen him look like this. His tie was always tight, his shirt perfect, his belongings cared for.

"Blaise," I said in a softer tone, getting his attention. "What are you really doing out here? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine Weasley," he answered shortly.

"I've never seen you like this. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine Weasley," he said a bit tenser than his voice should be.

"I don't believe that. What happened?" He stared at me for a few moments before sighing and motioning for me to sit down. Trying not to look too eager at the opportunity to be let in, I quickly sat and waited for him to say more. He didn't at first. I watched him stare out over the lake with a frown on his face.

"I've never gotten on well with Malfoy," he finally began. I gave my full attention. I never get information out of him and would not take this chance for granted. "Many people think we'd be great friends. We're both from rich pureblooded families. And honestly we tried the friend thing once, but I just couldn't ever stand him. He's cruel and insulting to everybody he talks to. He wouldn't even have any friends if he weren't rich." He paused and I leaned closer, feeling whatever he said next would be important. "I…I could never really handle the constant stream of demands, insults and "advice" he'd give out. So I just didn't put up with him. I'm not one to run around making people angry or cry. I'm not one to run around barking out demands at people just because I can. There've even been times when I've had to stopped Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle from beating up the younger students. I'll never be able to see how it's fair for three sixth years to take on one second year or even three second years."

There was no denying how curious I was becoming. I was too ecstatic about it. I'd been trying so hard on him - refusing to give up when he didn't cave to my advances of friendship straight away. He was an honestly good man the way he described himself. Unlike Malfoy, who talks himself up constantly, he was simply stating that he was different. He wasn't trying to boast.

"In Charms today," he went on slowly, "Flitwick assigned us partner work and stuck me with Malfoy. I ignored him as he went on giving out orders and talking about his "wonderful" father. Towards the end of class though, he moved on to loudly insulting people. And for the most part I ignored it. I let him make cracks at all the Gryffindors, even your brother, they could defend themselves and they did." He paused again and turned to look at me, making sure to make eye contact before continuing. "He must have thought he was on a roll because after he'd hit every Gryffindor in the class he moved on to other years. When he came across your name and started making comments about you…I sort of just flipped out. Your brother, Potter and Granger were out of their chairs to defend you, but before they could even take a step I was on my feet snarling out threats at Malfoy." He paused again, looking thoughtful. "I couldn't understand why I'd done it, I'm not supposed to be your friend and I'm not. I'm not supposed to care what people say about you - I'm probably supposed to insult you myself. I couldn't stand it though. I…care what's said about you, but I don't even talk to you." I waited to make sure he was finished before responding.

"Thank you Blaise," I said quietly with a smile. He continued to stare at me and didn't respond. "I know you don't think you should be my friend and I know you don't want to care about me, but I really wish you'd reconsider what you want. Surely if you're blowing up at Malfoy then somewhere inside you want to be my friend."

"I don't think I want to be your friend."

"Won't you even consider?"

"I think," he began slowly, "I think I…can I see something?" I nodded curiously.

He slowly turned his body so he was facing mine and reached his hand out to cup my cheek. I instinctively turned my face into the warmth as my eyes fluttered a bit. Before I knew it, the warmth and his hand were gone. My eyes opened again to see him just staring at me again.

"What?" I asked quietly.

"You feel nice," he responded just as quietly.

"What's that mean then?" In response he reached his hand back out and, this time, his thumb softly stroke my cheek as well. I once more allowed my eyes to close and reached up to hold his wrist in my small hand, trying to assure the hand would stay put this time. I opened my eyes at the feel of his other hand pushing my hair behind my ear. His face was a lot closer than it had been, but it still seemed too far to be appropriate in the situation. He stared into my eyes and finally began to lean in toward me. I licked my lips in anticipation for the contact and his eyes darted down to catch the movement. When his eyes connected with mine again they were darker than normal and I just knew that whatever happened, this moment would change everything between us. When I couldn't stand his slow demeanor anymore I leaned in to close the gap between our lips and he readily met mine.

The kiss started slow and trying, but when he slid his tongue out over my lips I instantly granted him access and things heated up. The hand on my cheek moved to the back of my neck, pulling me closer to him. The hand that had brushed my hair away found my hip and lightly traced over the skin there, making me shiver. As for my hands, one gripped at his loosened tie, pulling him close because his hand on my neck just wasn't bringing me close enough. The other was gripping at his muscular arm for dear life. I allowed him to take control of the kiss and Merlin was that the best decision I could have made. He was an excellent kisser and I would've almost rather continued kissing than break away for air, but that wasn't really a logical option.

Waiting for our breathing to steady, we continued with the silent staring as I tried to figure out what this meant for us.

"Ya know," he said in mock thoughtfulness, "I've always been taught not to be friends with a Gryffindor, but nobody ever taught me not to date one."

"That sounds like an excellent loop hole Blaise," I smiled happily.

"Yeah it does," he nodded. "So I guess a date's in order then. Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me next trip…Ginny?"

"I'd love to," I smiled wider before kissing him again.


End file.
